Potterish Drabbles & Ficlets
by A. Meril
Summary: Latest: Sir Cadogan/the Fat Lady gen-ish drabble, Frank/Alice drabble.
1. Sirens and Sneezing: JamesLily

Notes: Not mine, all JKR's, with some slight inspiration from the shoebox project. Written August 2006.

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**Sirens and Sneezing**

"Ah…. Ah… ACHOO!"

"I told you you should've gone to the hospital wing."

"I said that to you earlier this week, you deliberately didn't go, and then look who you passed this foul congestion on to?"

"That was your fault, if I recall correctly."

"You shouldn't've worn my favorite shirt."

"All my shirts are exactly alike, James."

"No, there's the one that's shrunk just right in the wash… That's my favorite, and you _wore_ it, you saucy temptress."

"Do you ever call me the same thing twice?"

"No. I'm trying to find one that will make Sirius snap and hex me."

"And I thought you'd hit that yesterday with 'my delectable pumpkin.' A vein in his forehead was actually twitching."

"There's always tomorrow, my little tartlet of joy."


	2. Small Strife: Millicent Bulstrode

Notes: Not mine, all JKR's. Written for a friend's prompt, August 2007.

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**Small Strife**

"It's all right, Millicent will go get us some food," Pansy coos, fluttering her hands around Draco's formerly injured arm as he complains of hunger. _God, he's a dramatic little brat. Probably sulking about getting detention and losing points from that dementor stunt._ "Know where the kitchens are, Bulstrode?"

"Yes," I say peevishly, closing _A Dish Best Served Cold: Time Delays in Charms, Jinxes, Hexes, and Curses_ and turning towards Pansy. "Don't _you_?"

Pansy shoots me a dirty glare, while Daphne looks surprised and approving (they've never really gotten along, Daphne and Pansy: always competing to be queen bee). I roll my eyes; it's easier to give Pansy her little victories than worry about nasty rumors for weeks afterward. "I'll be back," I mutter, shrugging on my dressing robe and slouching towards the wall.

The halls seem colder lately, like the dementors keep slipping little bits of their fog through the cracks. Dad told me about them and said to keep back and not get too close; he works out at Azkaban sometimes, and he's never been one to mince words about dangers. "Best to duck your head and keep low, Mill," he told me over the summer. "They'll suck your life away as soon as look at you."

Shuddering, I ascend the last set of stairs, and peer out into the entrance hall.

No one there. Last time Mrs. Norris set Filch on me, and I got twenty points taken plus detention: four hours collecting niffler poo in Hagrid's garden. Filch gloated and said the stuff was useful in cleaning enchanted metals, but he never did figure out why Mrs. Norris smelled so funny and looked so shiny two weeks later. Ha.

My brother Roderick told me how to get to the kitchens right before I came here. Pretty surprising when he did, my brothers aren't usually that generous. They're all a bit older than I am. Tyson and Sterling both work at the apothecary with Mum (she was a Bobbin), and Roddy travels around collecting the stuff they need. Roddy's a bit shady: very quiet on where his supplies come from, and I think he deals potions on the side.

Ah, kitchens. The house-elves all scurry around me, squeaking in their stupid little voices about "an honor" and all that crap. I tell them to get me some tarts (figures Pansy would like those best: she _is_ one) and some scones for that smarmy Malfoy.

When a tray zips over from the corner, holding my tarts, I look at a blackberry one interestedly. You know, that's just the color of that potion for boils... I'm pretty good at Potions, though I'd hate to go into it as a profession, and I think I could time-delay the boils to wait a week or so, disguise the taste, and fix it so maybe the boils come out on the arse...

Ha. Maybe Pansy won't be so full of herself then.


	3. 3 moments: Harry and that Golden Snitch

Notes: Not mine, all JKR's. Written for a meme, December 2007. **  
**

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**Three moments from my personal canon involving Harry and that particular Golden Snitch**

1. After the war is over, Harry keeps no massive trophy case of medals and awards from around the wizarding world, from the Ministry and the Aurors and foreign wizarding governments; those go, neatly labeled, to a box in the attic. But in the top left hand drawer of his desk, there are three things: the Special Award for Services to the School plaque from his second year, his Quidditch Captain badge, and a tarnished Snitch.

2. When James turns nine, he gets his first full-size broom and immediately rushes out back for a test run, despite the freezing December winds. Harry's eldest child won't let the broom out of his sight; even in sleep the broom is propped against his bed. For the next six months, James lives with a constant runny nose, and Pepper-Up Potion is his friend. In April, James comes to him with a sidelong, guilty expression, and tells him that he nicked an old Snitch from his desk. "Well, I needed something," he said guiltily, before saying that he failed to catch it somewhere near the stream. Unfortunately, Snitches can't be retrieved by Summoning: their charms prevent it.

3. Lily gets married in the Potters' back garden. After banishing Rita Skeeter and reinforcing the wards around the stream, Harry trips over a loose stone and falls flat on his face. His wrist makes a painful _crunching_ sound, and there, crusted with mud, is the Snitch.


	4. 3:30 AM: Sir Cadogan & the Fat Lady

Notes: I own nothing, it's all JKR's! Written for chimbomba for hp_wishes, December 2008.

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**3:30 AM, second-floor spiral staircase**

The Fat Lady shuddered when she saw Sir Cadogan trotting over from the other side of the glade. Oh, this would be nerve-wracking! Scurrying about, fearing Death Eaters might overhear them... But she was the Gryffindor guardian: she would do her utmost to protect her charges.

Cadogan removed his helmet, and she found herself thinking that his desire for honor and chivalry was suddenly fitting. Dark times needed virtue more than ever.

He bowed low. "Our enemies made a grave misstep when they failed to secure the paintings, my lady."

And thus, with a painted handshake, a conspiracy was born.


	5. Plans Gone Awry: FrankAlice Longbottom

**Notes**: I own nothing, it's all JKR's! Written for vegablack62 for hp_wishes, December 2008.

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**Plans Gone Awry**

I was going to be a career Auror. A decade or so of solid work, and then a family.

I wasn't supposed to fall for my trainee.

Oy, don't go like that! We were both _full_ Aurors when things, er, heated up. And trainees aren't meant to be so irresistible, funny and gorgeous and...

Well. None of this was expected, but it's better.

All I need, if I lose heart, is a look at my ring, and I remember why I'm fighting. Every great Auror needs a reason to keep going when it all seems dark.

Frank is my reason.


End file.
